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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029223">Promises of Better Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/C4t1l1n4/pseuds/C4t1l1n4'>C4t1l1n4</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Episode Fix-It: s01e06 Rare Species, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, Himbo Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Implied Aiden/Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion Goes To Kaer Morhen, Kaer Morhen (The Witcher), Lambert Being a Little Shit (The Witcher), Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode: s01e06 Rare Species, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, They're In Love Your Honor, Winter at Kaer Morhen (The Witcher), Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000, but he's fine, he thinks jaskier is dead for like 2 seconds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:49:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/C4t1l1n4/pseuds/C4t1l1n4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After yelling at Jaskier on the mountain, Geralt remembers what happened the last time he wished for peace from Jaskier and panics, chasing after the bard to fix his mistakes. It seems- however- that Destiny is quick to please (that bitch) and finds Jaskier in much worse condition than he left in.</p><p>Now featuring, a fluffy second chapter and Kaer Morhen in Chapter 3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>620</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt is fuming, mind racing, thoughts jumbled in his head.</p><p>The cool air makes for a nice breeze from where he stands on top of the mountain. The dragon hunt has been a disaster. Yennefer has stormed off, Borch is being no less cryptic than any other dragon, and Jaskier-</p><p>Jaskier. </p><p>His frustrating, perpetual energy. His never-ending cheerfulness. His cursed ability to make Geralt feel better when he doesn’t want to. Geralt needs a moment, just a bit of quiet, so he can work out his anger and process his emotions. And Jaskier, his ever-faithful companion and long-time friend, was just trying to help. </p><p>But Geralt didn’t want to be helped, he wanted to stew, to brood, to rethink his actions, to... He sighs. Now that the anger has dissipated from his system, he doesn’t really know what he was going for. Emotions come so difficultly to him, so hard to understand, such a challenge to process. And now he’s just feeling grief. </p><p>He’s lost Yennefer, doomed his child surprise to dead parents and life on the run, and personally crushed Jaskier’s heart between his fingers. He pushes himself into action, settling his swords comfortably on his back, and takes another deep sigh to steady himself. He doesn’t lash out often, he likes to think that he has decent control of his temper, but Jaskier’s unending waves of kindness are something he has yet to get used to and catch him off guard. </p><p>It’s been years since he'd lost control of his emotions this bad, and Jaskier has stuck with him all this time. In fact, the last time he had gotten this angry was due to an extreme deficit of sleep and Jaskier interrupted his search for-</p><p>Geralt’s train of thought trails off, something like ice filling his system and freezing him in place. </p><p>
  <em>The Djinn. </em>
</p><p>Something akin to panic starts him into motion again, forcing him into a sprint. Jaskier was attempting to traverse his way down the mountain by himself, with probably only his lute, and who knows how many starving creatures are lingering in the cliffs. </p><p>As if reading his thoughts, a scream fills the open air. A scream that he would know anywhere, has heard many times before, and wishes to never hear again.  It bounces around the rocky cliff faces, ringing in his ears, echoing in his head. It reverbs until it gets too quiet for him to hear, and it’s followed by a deafening amount of silence. Geralt pulls his sword out mid-stride and follows the bard’s sweet pine and chamomile scent. </p><p>He doesn’t get very far before the bard’s scent entwines with something else, before cutting off entirely. He traces it to a cliff’s edge, too desperate to find him alive to consider the other alternatives. With his advanced eye sight, he spots Jaskier at the bottom of a short drop. He shifts, still alive thankfully, but the small whimper lets him know that he didn’t make it out unharmed. The creature, Geralt notices as he finds a safer path to the bottom of the ravine, seems to be sporting a silver dagger in its throat. </p><p>“Jaskier!” the Witcher calls once he reaches the bottom, abandoning his sword in favor of reaching Jaskier quicker, now that there was no longer any threat.</p><p>Jaskier blinks at him confused for a second, before recognition colors cornflower eyes. “Geralt,” the bard manages, voice sounding weak. </p><p>Geralt is by his side in seconds, hands roaming nervously, trying to find where he is injured. They softly shift through tangled locks of chestnut hair, but he doesn’t feel any bumps, and cornflower eyes stare up at him with something like amused exasperation. </p><p>“I’m fine,” Jaskier says softly, calming tone slowing the Witcher’s racing heart. The bard shifts, trying to sit up more, but winces as he does so. </p><p>“Bullshit,” Geralt growls, “Where are you hurt?” </p><p>“It’s just my ankle, Geralt” Jaskier reassures once again. “I’m fine, honestly.”</p><p>Geralt’s eyes flicker down to Jaskier’s left foot, and gingerly presses two fingers against it. Jaskier sucks in a sharp breath, and the salty scent of fresh tears draws his attention back to the bard’s face. </p><p>“Sorry,” Jaskier manages, using one hand to wipe away the stray tears, the other keeping him upright. </p><p>“It might be broken.” Geralt says seriously, but gently. “I’m going to need to cut off your boot.” </p><p>Jaskier nods, giving a watery laugh. “About time I get a new pair anyway.” He jokes. </p><p>Geralt takes a moment away from drawing out his dagger, golden eyes boring into cornflower blue with startling sincerity. “When we get off this retched mountain, I will get you the best pair of boots that money can buy.”  He turns away so quickly, going to grip Jaskier’s foot, that the bard doesn’t even have time to process what exactly has been said before he’s wincing in pain again. “Right,” Geralt warns, clutching his knife in his hand. “This is going to hurt like hell, but I’ll make it quick. Ready?” </p><p>Jaskier gives a short nod, humming in affirmation. </p><p>“Okay. 1, 2-“ </p><p>Without warning, Geralt slips his knife into the soft fabric of the boots and rips it down the side. </p><p>“Motherfucker!” Jaskier hisses, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes once more. “You piece of shit.” Jaskier accuses shakily. “You did that on purpose.”</p><p>Geralt turns back to face him with a shrug, knife tucked safely away back on his belt. “It’s better if you’re not tense.” </p><p>“You owe me for this.” Jaskier threatens. “You owe me so many baths and nights at inns and a damn good pain killer.”</p><p>“I do.” Geralt agrees easily, catching Jaskier off guard again. “But for now, let’s get your foot wrapped and off this mountain.” The Witcher manages to scrounge up a few stiff sticks, and Jaskier convinces him to sacrifice his doublet to use as bindings, reducing the bard to his chemise. It’s not like Jaskier would particularly like to wear it again, given the memories attached to it. He decides not to comment on the Witcher’s promise to buy him a new one though. There are only so many things a bard can process in a day. </p><p>“Don’t put any pressure on it,” Geralt warns as he helps the bard to his feet, Jaskier leaning on him for support. </p><p>“We’re not going to make much progress if I’m using you as a crutch.” Jaskier points out. </p><p>“I’m going to carry you.” Geralt states bluntly. Jaskier leans on the nearby wall while Geralt collects both his abandoned sword and Jaskier’s bloodied dagger. He swings his holster off his back, with both swords back inside, and settles it onto Jaskier. “You’re in charge of these. Now, get on my back.” </p><p>Jaskier’s dagger is tucked back away for safekeeping, and his lute is gently slung across his shoulders as well, careful not to scratch it on the swords. Jaskier scrambles to get a hold, but the Witcher lifts him like he weighs nothing, and his arms quickly find their way around Geralt’s neck. With that, they make their way past the dead beast and up towards the main path, on their way back to Roach and off this mountain. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” Geralt says after a while. </p><p>Jaskier’s quiet humming trails off. “What for?” </p><p>“What for?” Geralt scoffs at the absurdity of the question. “Everything.” He sighs. “I got mad, took it out on you, and almost got you killed.” </p><p>Jaskier rolls his eyes. “I know you didn’t mean what you said. I was just going to give you space and let you catch up to me when you were feeling better. I wasn’t expecting to come across that creature.” </p><p>“I’ve treated you so poorly, all these years.” Geralt protests. “You deserve better than that from me.”</p><p>“We don’t get what we deserve.” Jaskier replies, sounding nonplussed. “I didn’t follow you because I wanted life to be easy.” </p><p>“But you should get more than what I’ve done for you. Jaskier... You <em>are</em> my friend. You’re more to me than just a friend. When I heard your scream, it filled me with a fear like I’ve never felt before. I- I’m no good with words, but I’d still like you to travel with me if you want to.”</p><p>“You know, I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say in one sitting in a very long time.” He teases, “But, yes, I’d still like to stay with you, for as long as you’ll have me. And I know you struggle with emotions and all that, but I do appreciate hearing you saying these things. People show that they care in different ways, and I know by your actions that you care about me, but hearing you say it, even just once and a while, is greatly appreciated.” </p><p>“I just- It’s hard to admit that I’ve gotten so attached to you, so used to having you around when I know that your human life span is so pitifully short. I don’t know if I can handle the devastation when you get old.” </p><p>Jaskier rests his chin against Geralt’s shoulder. “Nothing I can do about that, I’m afraid. Unless I have some hidden elf blood in my family that I don’t know about, I’m as human as they come.”</p><p>Geralt just hums. “What do you say about coming to Kaer Morhen with me?” He posits a little while later. Jaskier yawns, adrenaline starting to wear out. “We could head there early, and let you heal over the winter at the keep.”</p><p>“And meet your family?” Jaskier mumbles sleepily. “Sounds great.” </p><p>The corners of Geralt’s mouth tilt up. “We’ll discuss this in more detail later, bard. Just rest for now.”</p><p>Jaskier hums tiredly in response, managing a quiet “love you” before his eyes flutter shut.</p><p>Geralt tightens his hold on the bard, reveling in the comfort of his presence. </p><p>“Love you too, Jas.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thinking about doing a second chapter where they go to Kaer Morhen, but I can't decide if I want to introduce Ciri into the story or not. Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The fluffy sequel and shit, more plot</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Jaskier.” A gruff, soft voice calls gently. </p><p>His eyes flutter softly, still filled with the dregs of sleep. It takes him a second to orient himself, he’s moving, and it’s really only the throbbing in his ankle that jerks him into reality. </p><p>“We’re here.” The voice says again, one that the bard can now place is Geralt, who has been carrying him ever since he got hurt. </p><p>Jaskier squints in the dim light, barely making out what Geralt was referring to, keen eyes picking out Roach’s dark coat from the rest of her surroundings. “It’s sundown?” Jaskier asks, perplexed, “You carried me all this time?”</p><p>“Sunrise, actually.” Geralt corrects, ignoring the bard's shocked noise. “I’m ready to get as far away from this place as possible." Jaskier can’t help but agree, returning his chin to rest on Geralt’s shoulder from where he had lifted it to look around. He yawns again. </p><p>“You'd think I wouldn’t be so tired.” He comments idly, watching Roach draw nearer through heavy eyelids. </p><p>“Your body is trying to heal itself.” Geralt points out, coming to a stop beside where Roach is tied, “sometimes the best thing to do for that is to rest.” He helps the bard gently slide off his back and lean against Roach for support, who thankfully doesn’t seem to mind. “It’d be fastest for you to ride.” Geralt starts to go and help him on, but Jaskier cuts him off by holding up a hand. </p><p>“Woah, can’t we just take a second? I’m sure you have some food with you somewhere, and I don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten since before I encountered that creature. Certainly, you can allow us a break to eat?” </p><p>Geralt takes a moment to consider but eventually relents, though he doesn’t look too happy about it. He helps Jaskier sit comfortably on the ground and provides him with food, but keeps shooting looks back up the trail they came as if it’d personally offended him. </p><p>“Relax.” Jaskier pesters, tugging on the Witcher’s gloved hand, trying to get him to settle down beside of him. “Just for a few minutes.” </p><p>Geralt relents, taking the offered piece of dried jerky and making himself comfortable next to the bard, sides pressing together. They eat in silence as the sun rises above the horizon and Geralt starts to take most of Jaskier’s weight as the bard leans against him, the Witcher’s arm finding a way around his waist. </p><p>Cornflower eyes flicker over from where they had been watching the painted sky, to find golden ones tracing over his skin. “What are you thinking about?” Jaskier teases. “I’ll tell you what I am.” He continues upon getting no response. “I’m thinking about how romantic this is.” </p><p>“What a coincidence.” Geralt hums, golden gaze falling to the bard’s parted lips. “I was just thinking about how much I’d like to kiss you.” </p><p>Strawberry pink dusts its way across the bard’s cheeks. “Is that so? I guess you’ll have to do something about that.”</p><p>“I suppose I should.” Geralt agrees, and then he’s wrapping a hand around the back of Jaskier’s neck, crashing their lips together. Jaskier hums in delight, winding his arms around the Witcher’s neck and pulling himself closer. </p><p>Roach snorts in the background, but they pay her no mind as she wanders off to find a patch of grass. </p><p>This was going to take a while. </p><p>———<br/>
It’s hours later that Jaskier finds himself settled on Roach’s back, Geralt walking by his side and a town in sight.</p><p> It’s been a while since he has been this grateful to see a backwater town like this, but as long as it has a healer, he doesn’t care.  If the townspeople are surprised to see a Witcher leading his injured companion on a horse, they hide it very well and guide them to a nice middle-aged lady, who evaluates his ankle with a sympathetic wince. </p><p>Soon, they’re on their way once more, after a good night's rest, stomachs full of food, and for Jaskier, plenty of pain killers. It doesn’t throb so much now as Roach’s careful gait jostles it from where he sits on her back and makes the journey more pleasant, as he has peace enough of mind to strum his lute. Geralt doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, he’s been nothing but overly polite, almost a concerning amount. </p><p>It could take his ankle anywhere from 2 to 4 months to heal, according to the healer who had confirmed he had broken it in his fall, and even then it would take him a while to get back to normal. Upon hearing this, Geralt had immediately insisted on heading to Kaer Morhen, despite it being a few more weeks before he’d normally head that way. Having a human with him would make the trek slower for sure, but taking the pass before it froze over would be crucial. </p><p>It’s in the last week of fall that they finally reach the village at the base of the Blue Mountains, whose tall and rocky cliffs hold the Keep that the Wolf Witchers call home. Jaskier has a crutch, procured from a different healer on their journey, so Geralt didn’t have to carry him everywhere, though sometimes the Witcher still did, pulling him up into his arms like a bride. Jaskier had asked about it once and got a bashful reply barely loud enough for human ears to hear. <em> “Sometimes I just like to have you close.” Geralt had admitted shyly, and Jaskier was sure that if Witchers could blush, his White Wolf would be tinged pink. “It helps reassure me that you’re safe.</em> And how could Jaskier say no to that?</p><p>Geralt dotes on him, Jaskier thinks he still feels guilty about the mountain incident, even if it had been 2 or so months since then and the bard has reassured him many times that he isn’t upset about it, as long as Geralt promises to never pull a stupid stunt like that again. Jaskier can’t deny that he likes this newfound softness between them, and the kissing - oh gods, the kissing - as well as the gifts that Geralt seems to never run out of coin to buy for him. </p><p>The current round of gifts, Jaskier notes as Geralt helps him off Roach, is all the winter gear the Witcher grumbles about him not having. The fall wind is getting harsher as it morphs into winter, and while snow is a long time coming, Jaskier shivers just the same. He has a sunny disposition, what can he say, he doesn’t like to stick in cold places longer than he has to. This makes Geralt worry about the bard staying comfortable at the keep for the long winter months, hence the excessive clothing. The thick turquoise cloak that Geralt wraps around the bard’s shoulders, however, is a luxury greatly appreciated, plopped on him as he haggles for some of the last fresh fruits of the season. </p><p>“Geralt,” the bard turns to face him, fruit in hand, the other hand tracing over the thick fur. Cornflower eyes glance up to meet gold with something akin to awe and wonder. “This is wonderful! Truly amazing!” He exclaims, hobbling closer. Geralt catches the lapels of the cloak and pulls them together, wrapping it snugger around him. </p><p>“It’s the least I could do,” Geralt denies, flustered once more. “The wind gets rough the higher up the mountain you go.” </p><p>“Bringing some extra cargo up with you this year, Geralt?” A voice behind them asks. Geralt turns, revealing another Witcher with a familiar-looking medallion hanging from his neck. </p><p>“Eskel.” Geralt’s voice colors with happiness, and Jaskier relaxes. Not all Witchers seem to get along with each other, but this one, in particular, appears to be a friend. </p><p>The other Witcher - Eskel - pulls Geralt into a hug, and Jaskier finally places where he had heard that name before. </p><p>“Oh,” Jaskier says as they pull away, drawing amber eyes his way. “You’re Geralt’s brother.” </p><p>Eskel raises an eyebrow, and then smiles, glancing between the two of them. “And you must be his Bard.”</p><p>“I’m Jaskier. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Jaskier gives the best approximation of a bow that he can do with a crutch, but it makes Eskel chuckle regardless. </p><p>“What happened?” Eskel asks, eyes flickering down to Jaskier’s crutch and one boot. </p><p>“Ahh, yes. I had an encounter with a nasty creature and went for a bit of a tumble.” </p><p>“It was a 20-foot drop, Jaskier. Down the side of a mountain.” Geralt deadpans. </p><p>Jaskier waves his hand in a dismissive motion and takes a bite out of the fruit in his other. Geralt rolls his eyes but doesn’t push any further. </p><p>“Want to travel up together?” Eskel asks, “ We can consolidate our loads, and I can help make sure your bard doesn’t fall off the side of the mountain again.”</p><p>Jaskier huffs, offended, around the food in his mouth. </p><p>“That’s probably a good idea.” Geralt muses. “I have a few more things to gather up first.”</p><p>“I have a cart already. Just drop your stuff off with Scorpion and we can head up in the morning.” </p><p>Geralt nods, and Jaskier takes another bite of his fruit, waving a cheerful goodbye to Eskel, who disappears into the crowd. Geralt looks down at Jaskier as the juice from the fruit drips down his chin, splattering on the cloak. The Witcher rolls his eyes in faux annoyance at his lover’s antics, but his golden eyes gleam in the sun, and there’s a fond smile on his face. Thankfully for the bard, his Witcher doesn’t seem to mind very much at all, and he manages to get a kiss anyway, right in the middle of the market square. </p><p>It tastes like pears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Next (and last???) chapter is them at Kaer Morhen. The plan is cute fluffy cuddles, gentle teasing, and possessive Geralt. Planning to update in the next day or two</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"It took me this long to get my bard, now I’m not letting him go" </p><p>- drunk Geralt is feral Geralt apparently <br/>- Lambert picks up Jaskier at some point</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier’s cloak swishes in the wind, strands of chestnut hair dancing along with the cold bursts of air. </p><p>It’s been a long, chilly journey up the mountain, but they are almost at the keep, and Jaskier can’t wait to see what the old fortress has to offer. Eskel is much more talkative than Geralt, the bard has discovered, and revels in the stories even if he doesn’t write them down to turn into a song. </p><p> The pace was slow, with both an injured human and a labored horse, but now the wide gates of the keep loom before them, standing tall, even from where Jaskier sits on Roach’s back. Scorpion pulls to a halt and Eskel makes quick work of untying the cart as Geralt helps Jaskier down off Roach’s back. Both horses know this place well enough that they wander off as soon as they’re free and find their way to the warm comfort of the stable with little problem.  </p><p>Eskel begins to unload the cart, throwing items over his shoulder and heading into the keep. Jaskier takes a second just to look, clutching onto Geralt’s arm with a newfound sense of awe temporarily flooding any chill in his system. </p><p>“This is downright remarkable.” He breathes out, breath condensing in front of him in puffs of little clouds.</p><p>“Yeah, well, you can admire it more from the inside.” Geralt replies, scooping the bard up into his arms, who gives a startled yelp. </p><p>“Geralt!” Jaskier whines, “I can walk.”</p><p>“You’re slow with that crutch, and it’s cold. Humans are fragile, and we need you to get warmed back up.” </p><p>Jaskier huffs in annoyance, but if the way he snuggles closer to Geralt is any indication, he doesn’t actually mind. Soon, the bard finds himself gently settled on a pile of furs near the large fireplace, and more furs are tucked firmly around him.</p><p>“Now,” Geralt says, something like a warning in his voice. “I’m going to help unload the cart. You stay here and get warm. No wandering oft to explore on your own.” The Witcher presses a kiss to cold locks of chestnut hair, before heading back out to where the cart sits idly outside. </p><p>“Where do you think I’d go?” Jaskier calls after him, but he only gets a snort in return. Jaskier mumbles to himself about overprotective Witchers but doesn’t hesitate to pull himself a little closer to the roaring flames. </p><p>“A guest?” A new voice rumbles. Jaskier turns to the best of his ability to face the voice without jostling his ankle too much. Another Witcher, with similar graying hair and golden eyes as Geralt, watches him from a doorway leading deeper into the fortress. </p><p>“That’d be Geralt,” Eskel explains, appearing from behind the Witcher, not stopping as he heads back out to the cart.</p><p>The Witcher looks back over him with interest. “Geralt’s bard then, I take it?” </p><p>“That’d be me.” Jaskier smiles charmingly and dips his head in lieu of a bow. “Jaskier the bard, at your service.”</p><p>The older Witcher huffs out something like a laugh. “Pleased to meet you Jaskier. My name is Vesemir. I run this place and keep these boys in line.” </p><p>“Sounds like a tough job. From what I’ve experienced traveling with Geralt, I’m sure three of them can be quite a handful.” </p><p>“Slandering my name?” Geralt’s voice comes, not even a bit strained as he carries a load in from the cart. </p><p>“Of course not, dearest.” Jaskier teases gently. </p><p>“You didn’t say anything about bringing a human to the keep with you this year,” Vesemir states, raising an eyebrow haltingly. “Let alone an injured one.” </p><p>Geralt pauses, but Jaskier cuts him off, the sour smell of panic filling the air. “I didn’t realize that coming would be such an issue.” Jaskier begins, a sincere apology forming on his tongue as he tries to calculate a way he could make it back down to the nearest town before the snow started. “I didn’t mean to intrude-“</p><p>Vesemir cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense, boy. Any friend of a Wolf Witcher is a friend of us all.”</p><p>“Except Lambert’s Cat.” Eskel snorts, passing through. </p><p>“I don’t think Cat Witcher’s count as friends in the first place.” Geralt posits, following his brother out of the room. </p><p>The sour smell dissipates, thankfully, and is replaced with the bard’s normal sweet pine and camomile as he basks in the warm glow of the fire. </p><p>“So, what happened to you?” Vesemir asks after a while. </p><p>“I broke my ankle by falling a short drop down the side of a mountain, running from a beast. ” </p><p>Jaskier can’t decide if Vesemir is impressed, or just shocked at the sheer stupidity of the trouble he managed to get himself into. “Where was Geralt? Were you traveling together at the time?”</p><p>Jaskier falters, gaze flickering away from the Witcher back to the fire. “We were traveling together, but he wasn’t close enough to me to help at the time,” he explains delicately. “But it worked out well in the end.” He glances back up, a cheery pep in his voice and a smile on his face. “He found me shortly after and carried me pretty much the rest of the way down.” </p><p>The bard’s specific word choice and faltering tone did not go unnoticed by Vesemir, however, who narrows his eyes, trying to fill in the missing gaps. Geralt and Eskel break the tension as they walk back through, and Vesemir directs his attention towards them. </p><p>“Geralt, I’m going to take your bard to your room upstairs. He should be warm enough to make the journey, and sitting on the floor like this isn’t good for his injury.” </p><p>Geralt looks hesitant at first, he’s grown protective of the bard after he got injured and they started a relationship, but at the mention of his injured ankle, he relents. </p><p>“That’s probably a good idea. Thank you.” </p><p>Vesemir just nods. “Get the rest of that cart unloaded. Lambert should be here in a week or two with a second one.” </p><p>With that, he turns his attention back to Jaskier and helps the bard onto his feet. It’s slow going, having to use the older Witcher as a crutch, but Vesemir shows no intention of carrying him, and Jaskier isn’t going to press the matter, even if it makes his ankle throb when he finally collapses on the bed. Vesemir starts a fire here with a small burst of Igni and pulls a chair from the corner of the room closer to where Jaskier sits on the bed. </p><p>“So,” Vesemir says, sitting down and staring Jaskier dead in the eyes. “What did my dumb pup do this time?”</p><p>It seems they weren’t getting out of this conversation as easily as he thought. He doesn’t want to get Geralt in trouble, and it’s not like he hasn’t made up for it ten times over. “It’s not that big of a deal.” Jaskier tries to reassure, but the older Witcher is having none of it. </p><p>“What happened, boy?” </p><p>“Really,” the bard insists, “He was just upset and it was a bad time for me to try and intervene, and it would’ve been fine anyway and-“</p><p>“Spit it out, bard.”</p><p>Jaskier finally sighs in defeat, and drops his gaze, mumbling to the floor. “He blamed me for all his problems and said he never wanted to see me again. So I left, and got attacked.” It wasn’t very loud, but the Witcher heard it clear enough just the same. </p><p>Vesemir growls in frustration, standing to his feet. He ignores Jaskier’s jumbled rambling and leaves the room, looking for Geralt. Even Jaskier could hear the scolding from the room. </p><p>——<br/>Lambert arrives a few weeks later, as predicted, the first winter storm hot on his tail, covering the pass with snow and ice. It doesn’t take long for the youngest Witcher to get caught up on the reason for Jaskier’s presence at the keep this winter, and it takes an even shorter amount of time for him to exploit it. </p><p>Lambert is ever an opportunist to tease Geralt, and using his protective nature against him turns out to be his greatest weapon. All it takes, on one memorable occasion, is picking Jaskier up. </p><p>It was late at night one evening after dinner, and most of the Witchers are a glass or two deep into White Gull. Jaskier was excited to learn about such a thing that could Witchers drunk, despite not being allowed a sip himself. They don’t have many human-friendly items at the keep, but Jaskier doesn’t mind, and Vesemir promises to stock up if he returns. This being said, Lambert was just the slightest bit tipsy, which does nothing more than lower his self preservations skills.</p><p>Geralt, on the other hand, becomes more protective - practically possessive - of Jaskier. The bard doesn’t mind at all, as Geralt is usually very stingy with affection, but on White Gull he’ll nip and bite at the bard’s neck, practically leaving hickies right in front of everyone else. Jaskier may get embarrassed - so easily on the receiving end of Geralt’s relentless affection - but his Witcher is fearless in his mission to make sure Jaskier knows how much he is loved. </p><p>It’s on one such occasion that this lethal combination clashes. The White Gull is starting to get the better of Geralt, his eyes drooping, even as he remains sprawled on Jaskier. Vesemir is long such gone, he has better things to do than watch his boys brawl on the stone floor, and it’s Eskel who usually helps Jaskier get Geralt into bed. Lambert uses this opportunity to pluck the Bard right out of his brother’s grasp, hoisting him into his arms and taking off for the stairs. </p><p>It takes maneuvering, first, he has to remove the bard from Geralt’s grasp, unwinding tangled limbs while minding the bard’s healing ankle, but Lambert lacks nothing in cunning and speed. It’s really only Jaskier’s startled shriek, arms flying around the other’s neck as he’s manhandled into a bridal carry, that alerts Geralt that something is wrong. Golden eyes swing around the room and follow Eskel’s exasperated motion to catch Lambert rounding the corner, bard in hand. </p><p>He’s on his feet in an instant, growl ripping itself from his throat and he chases after the brother who dares mess with his partner. The chase comes to a head in the room at the top of one of the spiraling towers, Lambert standing in between him and Jaskier, who had been carefully deposited on the ledge of the windows. Jaskier gives a cheery wave, but Lambert drops into a fighting stance, pulling his attention back towards the other Witcher. </p><p>The fight is nothing serious, a playful brawl as they roll around on the stone floor of the room, fighting to pin the other. It lasts a few minutes, but Geralt ultimately comes out on top. Lambert surrenders with a gruff tap, and Geralt stands to his feet, puffing out his chest. Jaskier rolls his eyes fondly at his Witcher’s drunken behavior. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, big guy. You’re big, strong, and impressive,” Jaskier says, lifting his arms. “Come on, sweetheart, take your prize to bed. Some of us are human and tired.”</p><p>Geralt takes no qualm with Jaskier’s gentle snark, and even if he can’t process the words correctly, he gets the idea of the bard’s motion. And so, Jaskier is scooped into a bridal carry for the second time that night but is carried at a much slower, gentler pace. </p><p>When they get to their room, he is carefully settled on their bed, and helped out of his clothes, until he is left in nothing but his small clothes and one of Geralt’s oversized shirts. Geralt changes as well, shucking off his shirt and donning a more comfortable pair of pants, before joining Jaskier under the covers. The adrenaline may have given the Witcher a spike of energy for a while, but now that things are calm again, the original effects of the White Gull settle in once more. </p><p>Geralt pulls the bard close, fitting him snuggly against his side, and falls asleep shortly after. Jaskier rests his hand on top of the one around his waist, sucking up the warmth that radiates from his Witcher. A yawn overtakes him, and his eyes flutter shut as well. </p><p>“Good night, my dear wolf.” He mumbles quietly. </p><p>They have a long winter ahead of them, and Jaskier can’t wait.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Barely edited but I hope you enjoy it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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